Chapter 166: Let's Fight First
In the modest living room of the Yorozuya…
The moment Ryosuke mentioned that his commission could support them for the rest of their lives, both Shimura Shinpachi and Kagura perked up visibly. Joy flashed across their faces—genuine and unfiltered.
But the man in front of them, Sakata Gintoki, suddenly shifted.
Gone was the charming, flippant air. Sitting on the couch, his lazy posture stiffened ever so slightly. The change wasn't obvious unless you knew him—but Ryosuke noticed it instantly.
Gintoki's personality was a lot like Jiraiya's. Carefree on the surface. Flaky, even. But deep down, he was the kind of leader who became deadly serious when it truly mattered—when danger approached, when others needed someone dependable.
"...Who are you, really?"
The fish-eyed stare was deeper than usual, filled with unspoken weight. "You seem to know a lot about us. Too much. Where exactly are we from? Do you know that?"
Three questions. All sharp. Each one harder to answer than the last.
Behind Gintoki, Shinpachi and Kagura tensed, their playful curiosity replaced with suspicion. The air grew heavy.
"My name is Hyuga Ryosuke," he replied calmly, eyes unwavering. "I'm from Konoha. In the Land of Fire."
As he spoke, Ryosuke made a single seal with his hands—and in the next breath, released the Transformation Jutsu. A swirl of chakra faded, revealing his true form. To further solidify his identity, he removed a cloth from his pouch, revealing a polished forehead protector engraved with the Leaf Village symbol.
The moment his fingers came together in the familiar gesture, all three tensed up.
Even before he revealed himself, they knew.
They might not be shinobi, but the moment Ryosuke formed that seal, something primal triggered in them.
A threat.
Gintoki's fingers brushed his wooden sword as his body shifted instinctively into a combat-ready stance. His eyes—still red from exhaustion or maybe sugar deprivation—were now laser-focused.
"Relax."
Ryosuke raised a hand in peace, his voice gentle. "I mean no harm. This isn't an ambush. Before we talk business, I have a small request."
His expression didn't change, but his tone became more direct. "I want to spar. Just a light match. Not life and death. I want to get a sense of your capabilities before entrusting you with the task."
Gintoki didn't budge.
"You still haven't answered my second and third questions," he replied flatly. "Where are we from? And are you the one who brought us here?"
The phrasing had changed—his second question was no longer a question. It was a quiet accusation.
"I won't dance around it," Ryosuke replied, gaze level. "Yes. I know where you're from. But if you want details—why you're here, how to go back—I need to see what you're capable of first."
From the moment they met, Ryosuke had been quietly observing all three with his Byakugan.
Shinpachi was the weakest, both in physical strength and combat experience. There was no doubt about that.
Kagura, on the other hand, was entirely different. She was no ordinary human. A night rabbit. An alien race much like the Otsutsuki. Though not quite as terrifying in abilities, her recovery and raw strength were unnatural. Even if her current level of training didn't match Gintoki's, her potential was staggering.
And Gintoki...
His body was a mess. Ryosuke could only describe it as chaotic. Realistically, a man like him should be bedridden—diabetes, nerve damage, anemia, and God knows what else. And yet... there was a coiled strength buried deep in that ruin of a body. A quiet storm.
He wasn't judging them by anime logic. This wasn't the comedy-drama world of Gintama anymore. These were beings displaced into something closer to reality, with consequences, fatigue, and limits.
And still… Ryosuke didn't underestimate them.
The room fell into heavy silence.
Kagura and Shinpachi looked to Gintoki. No one spoke. The weight of the moment settled in.
Ryosuke broke the silence.
"If you won't agree, I can always tell others about you. People would be... very curious."
His voice was calm, but the implication sharp.
"But I promise I won't kill you. I need you to help me complete some very important commissions."
Gintoki's blood-red gaze didn't waver.
"I accept," he said at last.
His voice was flat. Serious. A shift had occurred. Even Kagura and Shinpachi straightened subconsciously. Gintoki's presence wasn't something you noticed until it changed.
"Good," Ryosuke said with a nod.
He smiled faintly, his eyes full of anticipation.
---
Of course, their battle wouldn't take place in the capital of the Land of Iron. Neither side wanted attention.
They left through the outer districts and returned to the wilderness, eventually arriving at a desolate patch of earth far from prying eyes. No trees. No rocks. Not even grass. Just hard, cracked soil and silence.
Perfect.
Here, there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
A true battlefield.
Ryosuke's familiarity with the terrain made Shinpachi suspicious. "Mr. Ryosuke… did you plan this out ahead of time? You knew you'd be fighting Gin-san?"
Before Ryosuke could answer—
A wooden blade sliced through the air.
"You think this is some kind of turn-based RPG, you idiot?" a sarcastic voice rang out.
A crimson blur whipped across the opposite flank—Kagura with her umbrella drawn, flashing a feral grin.
Without warning, the two had flanked Ryosuke from either side.
Their sudden charge was fast—well-timed and coordinated.
Ryosuke blinked.
Interesting…
He hadn't expected them to act first. His attention had been divided, and these two—these "side characters"—had taken the initiative.
But even as their weapons closed in, he made no move to dodge.
The Byakugan saw everything.
Bang!
Dust exploded into the air. The earth trembled slightly.
Shinpachi and Kagura's expressions twisted in disbelief. Their attacks—so sudden and precise—had hit something. But not flesh.
They tried to pull back, but their weapons were stuck. Held.
"Shinpachi-kun..." came Ryosuke's voice from the settling dust. "When I saw your big eyes and thick eyebrows, I thought you were an honest guy."
As the dust cleared—
He stood there, calm and unshaken. One hand casually pinched the tip of Kagura's umbrella. The other, two fingers locked around the blade of Shinpachi's wooden sword.
"Although I have my reservations," Ryosuke said calmly, releasing his grip on their weapons, "you don't need to hold back."
Shimura Shinpachi took a step back and awkwardly scratched his head as he sheathed his sword. "Since you said you wanted to test our strength, I figured tactics were fair game. I mean… isn't that normal in a real fight?"
"As it should be." Ryosuke nodded, showing no offense at the ambush. He didn't see it as deceit—just practicality.
In truth, he'd expected someone like Shinpachi to fight with restraint. A young samurai raised in a dojo should be bound by the spirit of bushido, after all.
But perhaps… this world had changed him.
"The opponent's a ninja. No need to play nice," Gintoki said coolly, casually spinning his wooden sword. His dead-fish eyes sharpened to slits. "You've been here long enough to know what kind of monsters they are."
"This ain't some RPG where the demon king politely waits for you to grind to level 50."
"Right!" Shinpachi straightened up, and Kagura tightened her grip on her umbrella, their previous amusement gone.
"Bring it on," Ryosuke said with a faint smile. Gintoki calling him a demon king? That wasn't far from the truth.
At his current level, Ryosuke was a demon king in this world of shinobi.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh!
They rushed him from three angles. Their coats flared violently as air was sliced open by their movements.
Clang!
But to Ryosuke, their speed was disappointing.
Once again, he intercepted Shinpachi's blade—though this time, he didn't bother to grip the weapon directly. He fused the principles of Iron Body (Tekkai), Finger Gun (Shigan), and earth-nature chakra manipulation to harden his fingers, parrying both Shinpachi's blade and Kagura's umbrella with ease.
Standard Tekkai restricted movement, but both Ryosuke and Blueno had already found workarounds.
Blueno used inertia—rolling forward like a boulder in motion.
Ryosuke, however, enhanced the technique through chakra control and sensory timing, allowing him to counter mid-movement with no delay.
Shinpachi and Kagura both froze mid-combat, astonished.
What kind of monster can stop a full-powered weapon strike with just two fingers?
But Ryosuke wasn't paying attention to them anymore.
His focus was locked on Gintoki.
The white-haired swordsman hadn't joined the skirmish, but he also hadn't flinched at the display of Ryosuke's power. That reaction—steady, calculating—told Ryosuke something.
He's experienced.
And then, in a blink—
He vanished.
Fast.
Far faster than before. His previous movements were sluggish by comparison.
But as Ryosuke's chakra surged to his temples, the world slowed. The Byakugan flared, revealing Gintoki reappearing behind Shinpachi like a ghost emerging from a shadow.
Clang!
Ryosuke deflected Shinpachi's blade again, but this time the follow-up came instantly. Shinpachi retreated, replaced by Gintoki, whose wooden sword was now sharper than steel in spirit.
There was no hesitation in his eyes.
He moved like a sword incarnate—fused with intent, blade, and motion.
No chakra. No bloodline limits. No superhuman strength.
But at that moment, Sakata Gintoki was the most dangerous person on the field.
Ryosuke didn't dare meet that strike head-on.
He shifted his stance and let his body glide sideways, following the wind pressure generated by the incoming slash like a feather caught in a gale.
Wham!
He narrowly avoided the blow.
Then again, as Kagura's umbrella came barreling toward him from the other direction, he used the same maneuver—riding the wind, not resisting it.
The sudden elegance of Ryosuke's dodging caught them all off guard.
But this wasn't just a game of evasion.
Ryosuke's expression darkened.
"If this is all you've got," he said coldly, "then perhaps I should dispose of you here and now—three intruders from another world."
There was no joke in his voice anymore.
He lashed out—his chakra-forged fingers piercing the air straight toward Kagura's head.
Clang!
She barely managed to raise her umbrella in time. But in the next instant—
Crack!
Ryosuke's fingers tore through the alloyed metal, punching a hole clean through it.
Kagura leapt back, stunned but unharmed, retreating into the air with a somersault.
"Mr. Ryosuke… you're serious now?" Shinpachi stammered, panic edging into his voice. The boy's grip on his sword faltered slightly.
But Ryosuke didn't answer.
Instead, he blurred forward—appearing before Shinpachi in a flash, his outstretched fingers aimed at the young samurai's neck.
"Move!!"
Under the midday sun, Gintoki's pupils contracted. Without thinking, he shoved Shinpachi aside, putting himself between Ryosuke's strike and his comrade.
Pfft—
A wet, sickening sound.
Ryosuke's fingers pierced straight through Gintoki's forearm. Blood sprayed in an arc, spattering onto the dry, cracked earth.
"Ayin!"
"Gin-chan!"
Their voices cried out in unison, echoing across the barren field.
Kagura's umbrella slashed down with violent force, the air splitting with each swing.
Shinpachi charged again, blade trembling with raw emotion.
But Ryosuke leapt out of their range, avoiding both attacks with minimal effort.
Then, his glowing white eyes narrowed, locking onto the two remaining combatants.
Because in that instant—when Gintoki was injured—something changed.
He saw it.
A strange energy burst from Kagura and Shinpachi. It wasn't chakra. It wasn't ki. It was something else.
Their muscles surged. Their movements accelerated.
Their strikes carried unexpected weight—enough to force Ryosuke to dodge rather than block.
Is this… instinctive power?
A response triggered by emotion?
A stress-based surge? The kind of power that awakens only when a friend's life is at stake?
It was eerily similar to the unknown forces that emerged from Blueno and his Devil Fruit.
Ryosuke's thoughts turned analytical again, his curiosity momentarily overtaking his aggression.
He turned his gaze back to Gintoki.
Despite the gaping wounds in his forearm, Gintoki hadn't fallen. Blood dripped steadily from the two large holes in his hand—but he held his wooden sword even tighter than before.
Ryosuke's Byakugan caught the subtle changes in his body.
Something strange was happening.
Those sluggish systems—dulled by years of injury, trauma, and sugar abuse—had roared back to life.
His cardiovascular system, muscle fibers, reflex arcs—all were improving at an impossible rate. His vitals spiked upward.
It was as if… Gintoki had been blessed by chakra. Like every part of his body was being amplified.
But Ryosuke frowned.
No… This wasn't chakra.
It was something else.
Something more primitive—and dangerous.
A survival instinct. A life-for-death trade.
He's burning his own vitality… forcing his body to rise above its limits, even if it kills him.
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